This must be the most epic fuck up of a day I’v had in a while. Braai was a disaster. I’ve been agitated since Friday and I really tried today, I tried to be there, I socialised and I drank my water and I enjoyed the sun. Then it’s time to eat and I dish up salad and I get my chicken kebab and I’m okay. I want potato salad so I allow myself one spoonful (because mayo has added sugar). It all tastes great and then I break off a bit of chicken and eat it only to notice the kebab isn’t cooked through. My fear of food kicks in and I get a flashback to the last braai where the same thing happened. I remember how hungry I was that night and how I ended up nibbling chips and crap. I really tried not to eat much and by 11pm I was starving and dizzy and therefore irritable. My partner was so busy chatting and drinking that he didn’t think to get to the braai and put our kebabs on. So I flash back to this and I feel hurt. I feel hurt that I already feel so out and that yes, I’m in a crappy mood, and now I can’t even enjoy the food I do have even after I put in all the effort of making a separate marinade and my very own kebab. I know I sound like a useless damsel in distress type and I guess I am when it comes to braaing meat. I don’t really eat meat and I don’t braai. But my partner is normally fantastic at it and gets it just right and very yummy. Except now all of a sudden. And I can’t help thinking there is a lesson from the universe in all these food mess ups lately. Perhaps I need to stop feeling so goddamn sorry for myself.
But there is something deeper here and I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why I feel so irritated!! I DON’T KNOW!!! I won’t go into a long story but this afternoon ended for me when my seat was rudely stolen and with my knees aching and my undercooked food and everyone talking about the delicious desert they were going to have, I just walked off and thought I’d rather sit on my own and play on my laptop or something. Only to get inside and the internet isn’t working and I don’t know how to reset it because my partner has this whole complicated set up. I wanted to scream in frustration at the universe, “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!??” But instead I put my head down on the pillows and dozed off.
My partner didn’t come in once to check if I was okay. He hasn’t once asked me what’s wrong or given me a hug. I apologised this morning for being all grumpy when he called me over and played our song, which was really cute. But after that the only time he looked at me was to ask me to clean up the meat dishes. He even sat down on a bench next to me and I put my hand on his leg but he completely ignored me. He didn’t even fucking look my way. I wanted to go see one of my favourite bands that are playing next year and I spoke to him and waited for him to say yes or no but nothing. And I didn’t have anyone else to go with so now I’ve missed my chance and it’s too late. Same thing happened with another band that played this year. And there three weeks ago I said let’s go to the botanical gardens where they installed this aerial walkway that we’ve both been wanting to check out. THREE weeks ago. Sure we decided that Sunday not to go as both of us were tired and he had some work to do. That’s another thing. I never complain about the fact that he works pretty much the whole weekend…either doing something for someone else or with his nose in his laptop finishing website work. I think I’m beginning to see what’s made me feel so unstable right now…
Basically I got tired of lying around and thought, “what the hell am I moping around here for? I have a car. I’m not incapable!” So I start packing up my stuff and as he walks past I say I’m leaving. He doesn’t even look at me. Just, “okay” and carries on. I start crying then. Do I mean so fucking little to him? Fine. Leaving was the right decision. I feel Borderline Brain kicking in more and more; it’s best I go. As I go across to his mum’s place to return something he suddenly says, “what’s wrong?” or “what’s your problem?” I don’t know which but the tone of voice was not exactly soft and caring. I reply nastily, “oh now you care.” and carry on. Yes, I know, really mature move girl. He lost the plot and started swearing at me. He followed me into his mums house and in front of his family is shouting at me..all I remember him shouting is “what is your fucking problem? Huh? What is your fucking issue??” I have never felt so embarrassed in all my life. I just had my head down, put the item on the table and said thank you and walked out choking back my tears as much as I could. His mum actually reprimanded him, telling him to calm down, to stop. Which did make me feel a bit better and less humiliated. But I just continued walking out. He followed me yelling at me, something about giving fucking attitude and I’ve had a problem all day. I burst into hysterical sobs, turn around and yell back. I don’t know what I said. He followed me into the room though and I think I was sobbing something about asking me nicely because he kept saying all he’s doing is asking me what’s wrong, what’s my issue. So I cry back that he isn’t asking me what’s wrong, he’s yelling at me and swearing at me and implying I’m pathetic and nasty and if he wanted to know what’s wrong why doesn’t he try asking me nicely, or like he actually gives a fuck. He calms down a beat and tries to hug me and I just shoved his arms away violently. I don’t think I’ve ever done that, been so violent and pushed him away. Normally I realise I’m flying off the handle and I calm down and accept a hug because in reality that is all I need. But not this time. I didn’t want him to be near me. Why does it take flying off the handle for him to see me. I just pushed past him and left. He didn’t try stop me. He didn’t say, let’s talk about this. Nothing. I’m house sitting and it took all my strength to get here without falling apart.
I parked and started bawling my eyes out but scolded myself. Pull yourself together. Just get in the house. So I get in the house. I’m waiting for my phone to beep. I feel wreckless, destructive. I want to get drunk. Yes…drunk. I want to drink until I vomit everywhere. And for an emetophobe this is usually when I know the dangerous head space I am in. I want to cut. God I want to cut. I unpack my stuff, I put away my food, I take out the ice-cream, I yell at myself in my head and put it back, I open the sweet tin and pull out chocolate, I open it and put it in a teacup because I can’t find a small bowl. I’ll sit down and eat it. I WILL NOT eat it now. I clean the kitty litter box, I feed the dogs, I feed the cats, I refill already full water bowls, I change into comfy, cooler clothing, I wash my hands over and over. I boil the kettle. I move my stuff from the room to the lounge. I mvoe the dog’s bed to the lounge. I go back to the chocolate. God I want to eat all that ice-cream. I want to shove it in and I want it to run down my chin. I don’t even need a spoon. I’ll use my hands and shovel it in so fast I can’t taste it. I feel suicidal.
“You useless failure. Look at you. You glutton. You pathetic piece of shit. You caused this, You and your stupid moods. What the hell’d you do that for? You just ruin everything. You’re such a spoilt brat. Pathetic. Stupid little girl. The fuck’s your problem? Yes eat that chocolate. Show just how pathetic you are. EAT IT! EAT IT! EAT IT!” I feel suicidal. I message my mum, I need help, I can’t sit here alone. I’m too unstable.
I’m blogging now so I’m not sitting with this inside. I’m blogging because then I can vent, I can write it out and block the emotional overload. I still haven’t cried. I haven’t allowed myself too because it’s too much. Because I’ll start and never be able to stop. Because I feel so empty inside today. Because all I need is a hug and because I am so cross with my partner and I cannot believe he still hasn’t messaged.
My mum is here.